


Scam School

by spaceorphan



Category: Glee, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceorphan/pseuds/spaceorphan
Summary: NYADA has always been a unique school - but Kurt starts noticing that things are becoming odder than usual.





	1. The Freshman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chasingkerouac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingkerouac/gifts).



> So - this was a piece of cracky fic thought up by ChasingKerouac and I. This fic is dedicated to her - cause she would have written this story had I not. ;)

Kurt remembers the whole thing started on a Wednesday. In truth, it probably started long before that - years probably. He wasn’t entirely sure - but for him, the story started on a Wednesday. Wednesdays were Blaine’s late nights, so Kurt usually had dinner with Rachel. He was on his way to meet her when he was nearly run over by a freshman talking on his phone. 

“What do you mean you’re having dinner with Aunt May? That isn’t part of the plan - no, it’s no, it’s super weird.” Kurt could hear the bits of the conversation from the kid’s end when, unknowingly, the kid slammed into him. The kid hadn’t been paying attention, and didn’t realize Kurt had crossed his path. The sheet music Kurt had been carrying went flying, as well as the kid’s phone. In an instant, the kid did a backflip over his head to catch it. 

Kurt stood there - stunned. So did the kid. 

“Uh, I have to call you back,” the kid said, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’m so sorry. So sorry, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t mean sorry…” Before Kurt could register what had happened, the kid had gathered his sheet music for him and handed it to him. Kurt was still comprehending that he had done a backflip over his head. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Kurt managed. “No one’s ever flipped over me before.” 

“Oh, right,” the kid shifted nervously. “Well, I’m in gymnastics.” 

Kurt gave him an odd look. “I didn’t realize we had gymnastics, is that new?” 

“Um, yeah, um,” the kid rubbed his hands together and gave an uncomfortable laugh. “It’s, um. I’m taking it for dance. Because I am a dance major. … I want to be a dancer.” 

“Sure,” Kurt said. Was it just him, or were the freshman getting weirder? 

The phone in the kid’s pocket rang again, and the kid whacked at it a few times to get it to stop. Yup, Kurt thought, definitely weirder. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get that?” Kurt asked.

“What, no, it’s fine it’s just my--” the kid stopped to think about it. “It’s just my dad, he really wants to make sure my assignment is going alright.” 

“Your assignment for gymnastics?” 

The kid’s mouth dropped a little. “Yes,” he said slowly. “And - he’s having lunch with my aunt, which is not supposed to happen because they’re not supposed to be getting along. That makes all of this -- much more stressful.” 

“College?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, college. College is definitely more stressful than I imagined.” 

At that moment, Rachel arrived, so fluttery with excitement that she didn’t even notice the kid there. “Kurt, you’ll never guess! Remember that secret club I was inducted to over the summer?” 

Kurt groaned. Rachel had only talked about how she was chosen out of a “select few” promising students for this hush-hush group NYADA had. Kurt figured it was some sort of version of a sorority - only for NYADA students, and probably wasn’t that big of a deal. At least not to what Rachel was making it out to be. 

“So, what about it?” 

“Well - I have an assignment!” she squealed. “I know I’m not supposed to talk about it - but I have to tell someone cause it’s so. Exciting. I’m going to be a recruiter. They said I’d be a natural because my loyalty to NYADA is unsurpassed, and over the summer I was able to find only the best new recruits.” 

“For the school?” Kurt and Rachel looked at each other - neither had noticed that the freshman had been standing there the whole time. “You just said you were recruiting people,” he repeated. “You mean for the school, right?” 

Rachel scrunched her nose. “Well, what else would I be recruiting people for?” 

The kid pursed his lips and rocked on his heels. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

“Uh, no, I’m uh, I’m Peter Parker.” The kid extended his hand to Rachel. But Rachel kind of brushed it off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in, I was just, uh, I’m--”

“Oh, you’re a fan!” Rachel’s eyes lit up. “You probably saw my work on Broadway. You probably are wondering what I’m doing back at school, but you know, I thought it best to finish my education and be well rounded before I really take Broadway a storm. And just you wait - someday you’ll be able to tell people that you’ve met a Tony winner.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Stark gave out awards.” 

“Huh?” 

“Nevermind.” 

“Let me get you an autograph.” 

There was an awkward pause as Rachel searched around her backpack for a piece of paper, she settled for an old syllabus, and a sharpie so she could scribble her name on it and give it to the kid, complete with gold star after her name. 

The kid looked at it weirdly before shoving it in her pocket. “Thanks, Rachelle, big fan.” 

“Rachel,” Rachel corrected automatically. “Rachel Berry with a gold star.” 

“Yeah, right,” then the kid shot out of there before either could say anything more. 

“Don’t you think that was weird?” Kurt asked.

“Fan encounters are always going to be awkward for both parties,” Rachel said. “The most important thing is to always be professional - and stay smiling. See - like this,” Rachel gave her best fake smile. “All they want is a moment with the star - to bask in the light of something so wondrous, and I can’t blame them for wanting a little piece of it - and there was no one around, so autographs really aren’t that big of a deal when they’re nice… Anyway, I have to tell you - I think I’ve found a new roommate, he says he’s a foreigner, but that’s okay, right…” 

Kurt decided to let it go as they headed out to dinner. 

\---

Later that night, as Kurt and Blaine were getting ready for bed - 

“So, the weirdest thing happened today,” Kurt said, pulling down the covers. “Some freshman did a backflip over my head, and then lied about being a Rachel Berry fan.” 

Blaine stared at him blankly for a moment. “Yeah, I don’t miss going to that school.” 

\---

As the weeks went by, Kurt started noticing that the freshman, Peter, was following him around. He seemed to be everywhere - around the corner after Kurt got out of class, in the cafeteria a table away, showing up for many of the same NYADA performances. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was constantly being watched, and the longer it went on, the more Kurt felt like he needed to address it. However, he made the mistake of instead of dealing with it himself - he mentioned it to Rachel. 

And of course, like usual, Rachel made a much more dramatic scene than she needed to. The next day at lunch, she noticed that Peter was there, sitting only a table away. 

Indignant, she got up and walked right over. “Excuse me, Mr. Parker, but you need to stop.” 

Peter, who had been listening to his earphones, took them out and looked up at her confused. “I mean, uh, I thought it was encouraged to listen to music? At a music school?” 

“No, I meant, you need to stop following my friend around,” Rachel dramatically pointed at Kurt, who sunk lower in his chair. Sometimes, he wondered why he was friends with her. “Look, Kurt is a very handsome guy, so I get it - you’re probably just too afraid to tell him how you really feel, but you should know that Kurt is a very happily married man, and you’re really not his type.” 

“Oh, god, Rachel stop,” Kurt said as he saw the kid’s face go a mortified red. 

“Oh, no, no no, I, uh,” Peter began to laugh nervously, “no, he’s not my type and that’s not…”

“Oh, is this about me?” Rachel asked. Kurt groaned. “Oh, that’s sweet that you’re trying to get closer to me through Kurt, but I’m sorry to let you down, but it’s just not going to work. See, I’ve heard about you - and heard that while some of your dance moves are passable, and there are rumors about how you are, um, bendy, unfortunately, it’s come to my attention that you cannot sing at all. And how could I ever date someone who couldn’t sing? What if we had to sing an emergency duet together at karaoke night. Imagine how embarrassed I’d be if my partner couldn’t sing. I would have to sing a solo - and while I’m always up for that challenge, it wouldn’t be fair to the other people who had viable partners…”

“Uh, no,” Peter said, he looked to Kurt, confused, then back at Rachel. “No, no, this isn’t about you - you’re not really my type either.” 

“What?” Rachel was aghast. Kurt choked down a laugh. 

“No, it’s about--” Peter stopped to think. “Wait, how do you know I can’t sing?” 

Rachel put a hand on her hip. “Well - I mean, rumors have been flying around for months that you’re failing all your classes. But, honestly, I can’t tell you how I get all of my secret information. Just know that we have an eye on you.” 

“We?” 

“Yes, NYADA - we’re always watching. And I’m sorry Peter Parker - I don’t think you have what it takes. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll be with us much longer.” 

Kurt didn’t know why - but just then, Peter shot up out of his seat, as white as a sheet. 

“Shit,” he said, scrambling to put all of his things in his backpack. “Shit, shit, shit, shit -- uh, I gotta go.” 

And in a flash, Peter Parker flew out of the cafeteria. Kurt never saw him in the school again. At least, not as a student.


	2. Rachel's New Roommage

There was a rapping at the window. 

At first, Kurt didn’t think anything of it. There seemed to be a bird, a raven by the looks of it, tapping persistently on the windowsill outside his kitchen. Birds perched there all the time, and it wasn’t that unusual. He had never seen a raven there before, however, and in fact, he wasn’t sure that any lived in the city. He would have ignored it, but the raven kept pecking at the window - to the point where Kurt was about to throttle it. When he went to the window to shoo it away, he saw that the raven had a piece of paper in his mouth. He opened the window - and the raven dropped off the folded piece of paper and flew away. 

Kurt was shocked to find the note was addressed to him, and when he unfolded it, he found that it was an invitation for a dinner party at Rachel’s that night. 

Blaine came in the room to find Kurt staring at the paper. “Are you okay?” 

“A raven just dropped off a dinner invitation to Rachel’s,” Kurt said. 

Blaine gave him a strange look. “Sure it did.” 

“It did, it was right here,” Kurt said pointing to the open window. 

“Yeah, because Rachel knows how to send a carrier raven,” Blaine said with a laugh. 

There was a ping from Kurt’s phone - a text from Rachel. “She wants to know if we’re free tonight for dinner.” 

“So, she sent a raven and a text?” Blaine laughed. “Should we expect a singing telegram next?” 

“I swear this note came from a raven,” Kurt said, exasperated. “Whatever, she wants us to meet her new roommate.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m going to go,” Blaine said. “Cooper’s in town, and he wants me to meet him uptown for--” 

Ping. “Oh, my god,” Kurt had received another message - this one of a selfie with her and her roommate. Her very good looking roommate, who had long, blond hair, and was built like a tank, and looked like he should be shirtless on the front of one of those romance novels Carole read. “Rachel sent us a picture of her new roommate.” Kurt showed the selfie to Blaine. 

Blaine’s jaw dropped a little. “You know, Cooper can wait.” 

Later that evening, they arrived at Rachel’s apartment. Rachel answered the door, a giddy bounce in her step. Behind her, in the living room, was the same towering and handsome man, dressed as though he were headed to a renaissance festival, attempting to balance a very large hammer on one finger. Rachel ushered them in, eager to introduce them to her new roommate. 

The guy flipped his hammer, then caught it magnificently before coming to the door. “Ah, Rachel, are these the minstrels you ordered.” 

“Hey,” Kurt said. He didn’t care how pretty this man was, he was no minstrel. 

“No, silly,” Rachel said, clinging on to his bulging bicep. “These are my friends - Kurt, Blaine, this is Thor Odinson, my new roommate.”

“Thor?” Blaine asked. “As in the god of thunder?”

“Pfft,” Rachel laughed. “That’s Zeus, c’mon.” 

“Ha!” Thor threw his head back. “Zeus is only half the thunder god as I am. So,” Thor clapped his hands together in a thunderous boom. “Shall we have dinner, or would you like to watch more of those funny little people in the box?” He asked - pointing to the TV. 

Kurt and Blaine exchanged odd looks - the first of many times throughout the evening. 

Rachel, Kurt and Blaine took their places at the table, as Thor went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned carrying a very large platter with a whole pig and garnishings on it. 

“For the occasion of Rachel’s guests, I have prepared for you a traditional Asgardian sacrificial boar,” Thor said, placing the platter in the middle of the table. It took up most of the space, and they had to move their dishes close to the edge of the table for it to fit. “Well, not quite in the ceremonial tradition of Asgard, but I did what I could. Alas, I am only a mighty warrior - ah what I’d give to have a chef worthy of royalty. I suppose my basic knowledge will have to do.”

Rachel grimaced. “Oh, that’s what you’ve been making? I’m sorry, Thor, I don’t eat meat.” 

“What do you mean you don’t eat meat?” Thor’s easy grin dropped into a look of anger. “This was sacrificed to my father. It would be an insult not to eat it.”

Kurt and Blaine decided not to say a word. Even Rachel looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, maybe I’ll have some of this salad that you’ve put underneath…” 

Thor slapped her hand away. “You should not touch that - it is poisonous to Midgardians.”

“Then why’s it there?” Rachel asked. 

“To make the sacrificial boar look more appetizing. Does it not?” 

Kurt and Blaine hurriedly took some of the boar, while Rachel reluctantly put some potatoes and carrots on her plate. 

“So, um, Mr. Odinson, what brings you to New York?” Kurt asked. 

Thor began to laugh as he shoved an entire leg of boar into his mouth. “Mr. Odinson. Ha! Please call me Thor. Why am I in New York? Oh, to see the sights. The last time I was in New York, I managed to knock half of it down - and I was quite interested seeing how the rebuilding was going.” 

“Are you working?” Kurt asked - losing his appetite just by watching Thor grotesquely eat. 

“I’m on a bit of a holiday, if I am honest with you,” Thor said. Then set his meat down solemnly. “I would have preferred to stay with my girlfriend-- well, I suppose ex-girlfriend. Mutual dumping, Jane Foster and I. But she won’t return any of my ravens. So I am moving on from that loss. It is really her loss. I am beautiful and a catch.” 

Kurt’s jaw dropped, not quite sure how to respond. 

Rachel, however, somewhat oblivious to how weird Thor was, took the conversation in another direction. “Blaine, you said your brother was in town last time we talked? What’s he up to?” 

“Oh, you know, Coop,” Blaine said. “There’s some kind of film he wants to do that has lots of explosions. He might be playing a superhero. I haven’t asked.” 

“A superhero!” Thor was delighted at the thought. “Your brother is a superhero? Would I know his name?” 

“N-no,” Blaine said shaking his head. “He’s an actor, who thinks he wants to be a superhero.” 

“Well, if he ever would like superhero lessons, I am for hire,” Thor said - and took another huge bite of boar. 

Blaine was left a little speechless. “I’ll, um, pass that along. Anyway, I’d rather be here - just having dinner with him can be a challenge.” 

“Trouble with your brother, then?” Thor said - trying to give a sympathetic look, but not quite making it.. “I understand. I am very close to my brother, though he has tried to kill me four times. But each time I forgive him, and hoped that he changed for good. We used to have the best adventures. Oh, there was this one time that he accidentally sold my hammer to an ogre. And in order to get it back, I had to dress as a fair maiden and pretend to marry the ogre to get it back. I made Loki be my handmaiden. He does look delightful in traditional ogre wedding garb. Unfortunately, though, that was the last time I was in Jotunheim. I do believe that marriage is still valid there, even if it’s been 800 years.”

Kurt had plenty of questions. But before he could ask any of them - Rachel let out a shriek. 

“I think there’s something in the window!” she pointed across the room to the window, where it looked like there was a shadow of a man hanging upside down. Kurt went to stand up, but Thor waved him off. 

“I shall go seek out this intruder,” Thor said, grabbing his hammer and heading to the window. 

While Thor opened the window to peer out, Kurt leaned in to hiss at Rachel. “Rachel, seriously, where did you find this guy? He really thinks he’s Thor.” 

“So?” Rachel said - not sure what the big deal was. “He paid in real Asgardian coin.” 

“That’s insane!” 

“You have a friend named Starchild - is Thor really weirder than Starchild?”

“Ah, a Midgardian named Starchild?” Thor said, coming to sit back down. “Does his origins come from one of the other nine realms?” 

Kurt gave Rachel an incredulous look. 

Rachel ignored him. “Thor, what was at the window?” 

“Oh nothing really,” Thor said, glancing around the room. “Just a bug. A very big bug. A scary spider, actually. Do not worry, I have eradicated the spider. I’m sure you won’t be having any more pest problems.” 

“Thank you, Thor, that is very helpful,” Rachel said. “So, I have some news - you know how Carmen Tibideaux retired at the beginning of the year?”

“Yeah, I heard she was forced into retirement, actually,” Kurt said. 

“I don’t know about that,” Rachel said, “but I do know who the board is looking to replace her.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Cassie July.” 

“Ha!” Thor slammed his fist on the table. “I know that one. July, a month, representative of your beloved dictator Julius Caesar. There have been many plays in his honor. Must have been a mighty fine man to get a whole month named after him. I only have a single day. You are looking at me funny. I assume you all know of Thor’s Day. It is the fifth day of your week. Yes, right, carry on.” 

Kurt, not even knowing how to deal with Thor, ignored him and got back to Rachel’s gossip. “Rachel, what have you been smoking? No one in their right mind would give Cassie July the dean position.” 

“Well, everyone in my secret NYADA group says they have contacts with the board, and they’ll be making the announcement soon.”

“NYADA has secret groups now?” Blaine asked, unimpressed. 

“NYADA’s always had secret groups,” Rachel snapped, “and I really shouldn’t be talking about it.” 

“Please, Rachel,” Thor encouraged - maybe a little too diligently. “Enlighten us more of these secret meetings. I promise you that I am the best confident, and will not share said secret meetings with any higher intelligence agencies.” 

“Um, well--”

There was an unexpected knock on the door. Rachel, clearly confused because they were not expecting any other guests, got up to answer it. It was a nervous looking, middle-aged man with dark curly hair and glasses. “Um, hello?” Rachel said. 

“Uh, hi, I’m looking for--”

“Dr. Banner!” Thor shot up from the table, and headed to the door, giving the middle-aged man a huge bear hug. “Rachel, this is Dr. Banner. He’s the one I have a drawing of in my room. He is a friend from work and a friend of the heart.”

“That’s lovely, Thor,” said Dr. Banner, though he didn’t seem as thrilled to see Thor as Thor was of him. 

“Dr. Banner, are you alright?” Thor asked - concerned. “You are looking a little green. Ha! Green, get it? Well, I suppose no one wants you to be green in this tiny space.” 

“Thor, we need you to come in for a, uh,” Dr. Banner looked around at Rachel, Kurt and Blaine, “uh, a work meeting.” 

“But I am having a feast with my new roommate and her minstrels.” 

“It’s urgent.” 

“Alright then, let me just get my hammer,” At that, Thor held out his hand, and his hammer flew into his palm. “I apologize my dear lady, but I must leave. Please enjoy the ceremonial sacrificial boar without me. It was an experience meeting you all. Good evening.” With that Thor and his friend left, with a resounding slam of the door. 

“Um, Rach…”

Rachel turned around and squealed. “Isn’t he just the best?”


	3. Dance of the Widow

Rachel ended up being right, Cassie July did get promoted to dean of the college. Kurt expected some huge changes to NYADA’s ways - but for a week or two, nothing really happened. Then, one Monday, he came in and noticed that some of the staff had changed out - something odd to happen in the middle of the semester. A tough looking dude was now teaching Rachel’s dance classes - Rachel wouldn’t shut up about how the guy seemed hot, though obviously not as hot as her new, weird roommate - but didn’t seem to know much about dancing. He said their new assignment was freestyle, and they could basically now do whatever they wanted. 

Meanwhile, Kurt had a new advanced stage combat teacher. Her age was hard to determine, though Kurt really doubted she was that much older than they were. She wore her bright red hair up in a bun, and wore a black spandex onesie. Some of the guys were chuckling as she walked in, but the woman looked too intense to mess with. 

“Hello, My name is Natasha Romanoff,” she said in a practiced calm voice. “You can call me Ms. Romanoff.” 

“What if we just wanna call you Natasha?” One of the guys standing next to Kurt joked. 

“Then I make sure that you never walk again,” Ms. Romanoff said unflinchingly. “So this is advanced stage combat. I assume, then, that you are familiar with basic hand to hand combat?” 

“We’ve been working with staffs,” someone up front said. 

“Ah, props, cute,” Ms. Romanoff said. “But not really handy in everyday practice. Let’s see how you guys are with your hands.” 

“I’ll show you how good I am with my hands,” said the same guy who had heckled her earlier. Kurt took a step away as Ms. Romanoff came in close to him. 

“I guess we have a cocky one here,” Ms. Romanoff smirked. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got. Hit me.” 

“Seriously?” the guy looked at the crowd, wanting support. Kurt didn’t even know how this was going to play out. But this guy had been an ass for most of their time at NYADA - so Kurt wouldn’t mind if he was taken down a peg. “I’m not hitting no girl.” 

“Ooh, are we really playing the girl card?” Ms. Romanoff said, with a tilt of her head. Then bam! She sucker punched him in the face. There was a loud crack as his nose probably broke. The guy let out a loud scream of agony, then threw his arm wildly around to hit her. In a second, Ms. Romanoff grabbed his arm and twirled him around - then forced him down to the floor, pinning both his arms behind him. “You have to learn how to really fight if you want the fake fighting to seem real. C’mon you babies, pair off. Time to take you back to basics.” 

\---

The class ended up being relentless, and Kurt was incredibly sore the next day. He wasn’t sure if he could put himself through the same rigorous training a second day in a row. But he showed up, early in fact, more afraid of what Ms. Romanoff would do if he wasn’t there. When he got there, the door was ajar. Ms. Romanoff was sitting on the desk, her back to the door, while the new dance teacher sat at the desk eating what looked like a sub sandwich. 

“I’m not sure what you’re worried about, Nat,” the new teacher said with his mouthful. “I don’t think Fury has his info right, these kids seem harmless.” 

“I seemed harmless, too, Clint,” Ms. Romanoff said. “Back when I was their age.” 

“I highly doubt that,” he said. Ms. Romanoff punched his shoulder. The guy let out a yelp and rubbed it. 

“How are you enjoying dance class?” Ms. Romanoff asked. 

“Oh, you know, just teaching them all of my killer dance moves,” he said, he had another bite, and half the toppings spilled out the back and onto his shirt. 

Ms. Romanoff laughed. “Man, you are a lame-ass dad now. I can’t believe they have you teaching dance.” 

“Like you could do any better?” 

“Advanced combat is not my only skill, Clint. You know that.” Ms. Romanoff leaped off the desk. Then positioned herself like a perfect ballerina. She stood completely on her toes, impressive since she was wearing boots, did a few graceful spins, then launched into a series of flips and tricks around the room - and with a graceful hop landed back on the desk. 

Clint, unpressed, picked a tomato off his shirt and ate it. “Yeah, I’m guessing those kids are better off with me teaching them how to shimmie.” 

Kurt was so in awe of what he just witnessed, he didn’t realize he was blocking the door for the other students. 

“C’mon, Hummel, outta the way,” one of the guys yelled. 

Kurt quickly opened the door and went in. Both Ms. Romanoff and Clint’s eyes, for a moment fixated on him. But luckily, nothing further happened, and class went on as usual. 

\---

After class, Rachel was waiting for him. She pulled him aside, and down an empty hallway. “So, our secret society meeting was this morning,” she said. “And they gave us something. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, but I think it’s kind of cool, and I can’t not tell my best friend, so check this out!” She handed him a small patch. “We got Octopus Patches! I think they’re supposed to go with these varsity jackets we got last week, but we were told not to wear them. Or the patches. But my secret society has a mascot. How cool!” 

Kurt looked at the patch. Something was definitely off about it. “Rachel, this doesn’t look like an octopus. I’m pretty sure that’s a skull.”

“Okay, so it’s a little creepy,” Rachel admitted. “But who cares. This is a symbol that I’m apart of the most exclusive society in this school. Apparently, they have connections. I could be headed straight for another role on Broadway. Or maybe even something better?” 

“Something better?” Kurt asked, concerned. 

“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “But every time I go to one of these meetings, I feel inspired to go out there, and recruit more people to our ranks. You know, I’m their best recruiter - that’s why I got the patch today.”

“Doesn’t any of this seem a little weird to you?” Kurt asked. “I mean, does this group even have a name?”

Rachel thought it over. “I think so - but I’m blanking on it at the moment. It doesn’t matter - Kurt you’re worrying too much. And that is why you’re not allowed in the society.” 

“Darn,” Kurt said. 

Ms. Romanoff and the new dance teacher rounded the corner. Rachel immediately stowed the patch away in her bag, and smiled brightly as the two teachers walked by. Ms. Romanoff’s cold stare lingered on them for a moment as they passed. 

“I shouldn’t worry?” Kurt said, with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Rachel asked innocently. “It’s supposed to be secret.” 

\---

By the end of the week, advanced combat class had kicked Kurt’s ass. When he got home on Friday, all he wanted to do was lay in bed and not move. He hadn’t made it past the couch when Blaine got home. 

“Long day?” Blaine asked, dropping his bag at the door. 

“More like, long week,” Kurt said. “Stage combat has become like a mini-drill camp.” Kurt stretched his arms out and yawned. 

Blaine gave him a concerned look, and joined him on the couch. “Kurt are you okay?” he lifted Kurt’s shirt to expose a large, purple bruise on his side.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Kurt said, letting Blaine take off his shirt so he could inspect the other bruises. 

“You don’t look fine,” Blaine said. He turned Kurt a little so he could get at Kurt’s shoulders, and began to rub. “Let me take care of you a bit.” 

“Oh you don’t have to--ooh, damn that feels good.” Blaine’s hands had always been like magic. 

“Just relax, Kurt,” Blaine said, giving Kurt’s shoulders a deep massage. “Maybe we can just skip dinner and enjoy a nice bath.” 

Kurt let out a little laugh. “Really? My broken and sore body is doing something for you.” 

“It’s not that,” Blaine said, though when Kurt turned his head he saw that Blaine’s eyes had gone dark. “It’s just the thought of you -- getting worked up and sweaty, taking on all those other guys. It’s pretty hot.” 

Blaine’s hands began to roam lower. Kurt gave in and went limp in Blaine’s arms. “You’re right, forget dinner. Take me to bed, Blaine!” 

\---

On Monday, he returned to school feeling quite refreshed. He was all set and ready to go into his voice lesson when Ms. Romanoff stopped him in the hall. 

“Mr. Hummel, if you could please come with me for a moment, don’t worry - your lesson professor knows I’m meeting with you.” 

Kurt wasn’t sure what that meant - but he followed her down a hall and into a tiny room he wasn’t sure he had seen before. There was enough room for a table and a chair on either side of it. There were no windows. Ms. Romanoff locked the door behind them. 

“Mr. Hummel, if you could please have a seat.” 

Kurt nervously slid into the chair. “Am I in trouble?” 

“No,” she said She gave a friendly smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t be alarmed, I am conducting interviews with all of my students. It’s a way for me to - get to know them better. I promise this shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

“Okay…” 

Ms. Romanoff took out a pad of paper and a pencil and wrote a few things down before asking her first question. “How long have you been at NYADA?” 

“Four years,” Kurt said. “Well, technically three and a half, but I’m a senior. I still plan to graduate in the spring.” 

She nodded. “And what are your future plans?” 

“Same thing as pretty much everyone else here,” Kurt said. “To be a performer.” 

“That all?” She was searching him for something - but Kurt wasn’t sure what. 

“Well, if I’m really being bold - I would like to have my own fashion line as well,” Kurt said. “I’ve already got a name for it -- Hummel Brag.” 

Ms. Romanoff leaned back - clearly that was not the answer she had been expecting. “Well, that’s definitely a name. Okay - well, is there anything else? Many students have aspirations that they want to own their own production company or theater. Most of them have stated they wanted to win a Tony. What about you?” 

Well - of course he had thought about all of that. But he was also a realist. “Maybe. I think I’d just like to get a starring role, first.” 

“Huh,” She stared at him for a long time before writing something down on her pad. “This might seem like a strange question but - have you noticed, maybe, anything unusual going on around here lately?” 

“It’s a drama school,” Kurt said. “Everything around here is unusual.” 

Ms. Romanoff gave a little smirk. “Okay more unusual than normal.” 

Kurt sat back and thought about it. “Not really? I mean, a couple of weeks ago, a kid backflipped over my head. That was a little odd.” Ms. Romanoff nodded, not seeming too concerned. “And, you know, this whole thing with Cassie July becoming dean. Didn’t really see that coming.” 

“No?” Ms. Romanoff asked. “Doesn’t seem the type.” 

“Well, I never had her as a teacher,” Kurt admitted. “Most of what I know comes from Youtube and Wikipedia. But she seems a bit hostile when provoked, and not particularly good with kid.” 

“Really?” 

“I guess I wouldn’t know firsthand,” Kurt said. “But my roommate, Rachel. God - they were, like, at war with each other for awhile there.”

“Rachel,” Ms. Romanoff tapped her pen on her pad. “Would this be Rachel Berry?” 

“Yes.” 

“Can you tell me a little about her?” 

“Um, well, I mean, she’s a diva,” Kurt said - not sure what exactly was and wasn’t appropriate to say. “But she means well. Oh! And talk about weird, she has this new roommate who thinks he’s Thor. Like THE Thor from Asgard and everything. I’ve seen some extreme roleplaying before but this is a little crazy.” 

Ms. Romanoff’s eyes went wide. “Well, I’m not one to judge anyone’s lifestyle. Now, what else can you tell me about Ms. Berry?” 

“She’s ambitious - cutthroat, really,” Kurt said. For some reason, Ms. Romanoff seemed incredibly interested in this. “But she’s easy to handle if you know how. Back in high school she sent a girl to a crack house because she was afraid of losing her place as lead vocalist.” 

“Interesting, interesting,” Ms. Romanoff repeated softly. “Would you say she was willing to kill for a role?” There was a weird look in Ms. Romanoff’s eyes. 

“I think most people here would,” Kurt said. 

“True,” Ms. Romanoff said. “Well, Kurt if there’s anything weird around here, if you would let me know, I would very much appreciate it.” 

“Sure,” Kurt said. “So I’m free to go?” 

“Of course.” 

As Kurt stood up, something occurred to him. “Oh, there is one strange thing, well to me at least. Maybe you’re already familiar with it. But Rachel says she’s part of a secret society here?” 

“A secret society?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know anything about it - other than Rachel claims she can’t talk about it, and that they have a really morbid octopus mascot.” 

“Well, I think I’ll have to ask Ms. Berry about this.”

“Please don’t say that I told you,” Kurt said quickly. “I don’t want her to get upset.” 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Hummel,” Ms. Romanoff said, unlocking the door. “Your secret is safe with me. Thank you for your time - and have a lovely day.”


	4. A Strange Conversation

Kurt thought that after that whole, weird conversation with Ms. Romanoff, things might actually start going back to normal. That did not happen. In fact, things get weirder. Soon, the entire staff was rotating through. At first, Kurt thought it might have been Cassie July’s doing. But as far as he could tell, Cassie July wasn’t doing much of anything except yelling at freshman about getting her lattes on time. The school seemed to be on a strange lockdown. And the new teachers who came in were acting as if nothing odd was happening at all. On top of that - he wasn’t sure if this new staff new what they were doing. 

Kurt’s set design class had two teachers. A Mr. Wilson and a Mr. Rhodes. He wasn’t sure why there were two of them - but he was pretty sure that together, their combined knowledge of set design was pretty slim. 

“Alright, all you munchkins listen up,” Mr. Wilson said. “I was given this sheet of paper to go off of, but since I don’t understand half of it - here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to get practical. So. From what I understand - that pile of books over there are actually plays. I’m gonna have each one of you pick a play, and then you are going to design a set for me. 

“What, no!” Mr. Rhodes interjected. “That’s just a stupid idea, and not what we talked about. We’re going to choose one play, and then they can all work on one project. An work as a team - because a set designer is going to have to work well with others.” 

Mr. Wilson didn’t take to his ideas being called stupid. “Well. What about individual creativity? And how will we know which one is the best.” 

“And why would we need to know which one is best?” 

“Well, how else is the director going to decide which tree he likes best?” 

“You are an idiot.” 

“Of all the people I could have been stuck with - it had to be you.”  
“Oh don’t think I’m happy about this either. You are the reason I can’t walk!”

“I hate you.” 

\---

Kurt was half convinced his new vocal coach was some sort of android. On their first meeting, Kurt arrived early, and the tall, slender man, who went by the name of Mr. Jarvis, appeared to walk through the door. Literally. Through the closed door. Though he tried to deny it. 

“My apologies, Mr. Hummel,” Mr. Jarvis said. “You are perhaps seeing things. Of course I did not walk through the door. How could I possibly do that. Now, you said you had an aria prepared?” 

Kurt did - and even after months practicing it, he still had a hard time getting through it. It didn’t help that this new Mr. Jarvis had a completely blank expression on his face the whole time. Even when Kurt belted out the last few notes perfectly, Mr. Jarvis remained unmoved. 

“Oh, it is done now,” Mr. Jarvis said. “I suppose you would like commentary on how to make it better.” 

“Well, that is what we usually do,” Kurt said. 

“I see,” Mr. Jarvis said. “Well, you were flat on 37% of your notes, and sharp on all the others. You managed to only hit three correctly. The music seemed to deviate in time. You started at a brisk 120 beats per minute and ended at 114 beats per minute, fluctuating throughout the piece. I’m not sure you understand what a whole note is, since you were always an average of .295 of a second too short. And I’m not sure you understand phrasing - though it’s hard when the original Italian lyrics don’t match up that well with the melody.” 

“Well, why don’t you sing it then,” Kurt mumble. 

Apparently, Mr. Jarvis did not understand sarcasm, because he simply said ‘okay’ and proceeded to the aria himself -- and it was as if autotune met with a songwriting computer program. Technically, it was perfect, but it sounded awful. And how was Mr. Jarvis able to make his voice sound like an 8-bit video game? 

\---

A man named T’Challa was filling in for their acting coach. He had the entire class push the chairs to the back of the room, and then they all sat around him in a circle on the floor. He had them cross their legs, and close their eyes, as if it were a yoga class and not acting. 

“It is not the words on the page that change you,” T’Challa said. His voice was calm, soothing, and almost like going into a trance. Kurt wasn’t sure he really understood what the man was saying, but there was something comforting in his voice. “It is gaining control of what is inside you that matters. So yes, please, take a deep look inward. Who is that you are trying to be? Who is it that you are? What is the emotion that you are trying to latch on to. Let everything go dark, and quiet, and then focus -- focus on that one thing and channel it. Is it anger? Is it pride? Is it love or laughter? It can be whatever emotion you want it to be. It is in you - and all you have to do is focus and reach for it. Then - once you have it, harness it, control it, hold on to it until it’s ready to erupt from you! You are never just yourself. You are everyone at all times. And all you have to do is connect…” 

\---

Kurt was feeling a bit lightheaded and not all that sure of reality by the time he got to his music history class. And just like every other one that day - there was a new professor there. Kurt sat near the front, trying hard to stay awake but he was finding it hard to do so. 

“Hello, class,” the man with a gentle voice said. “I am Mr. Rogers. And today, you’ll be in my neighborhood.” He smiled a toothy grin.

The class wasn’t quite sure what to think of this guy, a few people chuckled nervously. Kurt thought there was something oddly familiar about the guy - but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

“Today, we’ll be going over popular American music from the 1940s,” Mr. Rogers said, and clicked on a slide of a man and a woman in 40s attire doing a swing dance. “Ah, the big band music of the 40s. This brings me back. You know, we didn’t have an of these fancy electronic instruments back then. Just some good ole brass and a broad you wanted to swing with. Now, if I could just work this machine over here - I could probably play you some of my favorite Duke Ellington records.” 

As he tried to get the stereo to work, it hit Kurt why the guy seemed familiar. “Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look like Captain America?” 

Mr. Rogers laughed nervously. “Why young man, I think you’re mistaken. Are you feeling okay? You look a little ghostly.” 

Well, Kurt always looked a little ghostly, but he wasn’t sure he was feeling well at all, and excused himself from class. Mr. Rogers referred him to the nurse on the first floor. 

\---

Kurt had been in the NYADA building a hundred times, and he never knew that there was a nurse’s station located on the first floor. He didn’t even think colleges had nurses stations. Or maybe he was mistaken and he really was losing touch with reality. 

Entered the room not to find a kindly old lady as he expected, but a tall man, a bit gray around the ears, and wearing yellow gloves and a red cape, flipping through some folders.

The man froze upon Kurt entering but did not turn around right away. 

“Can I help you?” the man said in a commanding voice. 

“I think I need to see a nurse?” 

“Do I look like a nurse?” 

“No, actually you look like you walked out of a sci-fi convention,” Kurt sat on a chair. When would the weirdness of this day end? 

The man spun on his heal, a sour look on his odd face. “I am Strange.” 

“Good call, the cape was a dead giveaway.” 

“I meant that my name is Dr. Strange,” the man said in a measured tone. 

“Don’t you think the cape is a bit dramatic?” 

“Is it so out of place at a school for the dramatic arts?” 

Touche, Kurt thought. He had once come to school in a corset. 

“Is there a reason you are here? I am quite busy.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m in touch with reality anymore.” 

The man came in close, too close, and then shined some sort of weird light into his eyes. “Well, you are not concussed. Maybe you’ve spent so much time pretending to be in other worlds that it’s beginning to distort your own. Then again, what is reality really?” 

“What?” 

“I suggest you lie down and have a long nap. You’ll be fine in the morning.” 

There was a sudden flash of gold light, then he was gone. 

“Oh, okay…” 

\---

“Hey, Blaine?” Kurt said. They were both in bed, but Kurt was having a hard time sleeping. 

“Muphf,” Blaine wasn’t entirely conscious. 

“I think the Avengers are taking over the school.” 

Blaine turned in the bed. “Wha--?” 

“I think Captain America is teaching my music history class.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Wolverine is my art teacher.” 

“I’m being serious!” 

“If you think he’s hot - that’s fine, Kurt, you don’t have to turn it into a celebrity thing.” 

“No, Blaine - something weird is going on at NYADA.” 

“Kurt,” Blaine groaned. It was obvious he was now awake and not happy. “Nothing unusual is happening. The Avengers aren’t taking over NYADA. And Charles Xavier is not setting up a branch for his gifted students at NYU. And congrats on having a hot music history teacher for a change. Can you go to bed now?” 

Blaine turned on his side again. Kurt got out of bed and poured himself a glass of whisky.


	5. Phantom of the Opera

_Kurt you have to come quickly!!!_

The text was from Rachel, and she wanted to meet him at her apartment. Rachel was always sending urgent texts like that, so Kurt didn’t necessarily take them as seriously as he used to. Still, Kurt was over at her place first thing in the morning. 

Rachel was there, pacing in her living room. Thor was there, too trying to calm her down. 

“If you would just speak of what makes you ill, m’lady, perhaps I can do something to help,” he was saying. 

“But, I don’t know if you can -- I don’t know… oh Kurt!” Rachel ran to him and threw her arms around him. He could only imagine what was going on. 

“Rachel, it’s Sunday, I had a rough week - and I really wanted to sleep in,” Kurt said. “What is going on.” 

“So, Kurt, you know how I like to practice at every free moment that I get?” Rachel said. “Well, I went to use one of the practice rooms yesterday. For some reason, they wouldn’t let me use the auditorium, and apparently, all of the pianos are being tuned in the dance room, and all the practice rooms were being fumigated for bugs. Well - I was not about to come back home and sing - not after that jerk Kyle called the cops on me last time.” 

“I have met Kyle,” Thor interjected. “And I can confirm that he is as the lady says - a jerk.” 

“Anyway, so I decided to go down to the basement.” 

“Oh, god, Rachel, why?” Kurt moaned. 

“Because there’s a practice auditorium down there,” Rachel said. “And I know I shouldn’t have gone down there - I’ve heard all the stories, but I needed my space. There’s rumor that they’re looking for a new Elphaba, and of course I could play that role, so I needed to practice to guarantee that I get it.” 

“I do not know this singing play of which you speak,” Thor interjected. “But I assume that you will be the right part.” 

“Thank you, Thor,” Rachel said. “At least someone understands my Wicked talent.” 

“How can talent be wicked?” 

They both ignored him. 

“Anyway,” Rachel continued. “So, there I was, practicing in the candlelight. Well, not the literal candlelight - the chandelier has electric bulbs. But anyway, I’m signing away when I saw it. I saw -- HIM.” 

Rachel paused for dramatic effect. 

“Okay, who is him?” Kurt asked. 

“I don’t know!” Rachel threw her hands up. “He was dark, and scary, and I’m pretty sure he was wearing a mask. He didn’t look right at all, and he was hiding behind the curtains and when I saw him, I screamed.” 

“Oh my god, Rachel!” Kurt said. “Are you sure you saw a guy there? Was he disfigured? Would you consider him a phantom? Did you knock him out with the chandelier?” 

“Okay, now you’re making fun of me, but it was really scary!” Rachel said. 

“Was this phantom corporeal?” Thor asked. “Would I be able to hit him with my hammer?” 

“It was probably just a janitor,” Kurt said, though less sure now than he would have been with all the strange things at the school going on. “You probably scared him, too.” 

“Doubtful,” Rachel said. “Well, I did what any sensible young woman would do. I knocked him in the head with one of the paint cans lying around and ran out of there. And then I called you, cause what if I hurt him.” 

“And now you’re concerned about the phanom?” Because Rachel would. 

“Would it make you feel better to investigate this phantom?” Thor asked. 

Rachel threw herself at Thor, hugging him tightly. “Yes, we should go back and get the phantom.” 

“Let us go then!” Thor raised his hammer. 

“Rachel, seriously?” Kurt rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, are you not coming now?” 

Kurt groaned reluctantly. “No, I’ll go.” 

Not much later, Kurt found himself with Rachel and Thor, sneaking back into a closed NYADA building. Rachel, apparently, had keys. 

“Where did you even get those?” Kurt asked. 

“My secret society gave them to me,” Rachel said. “Just in case.” 

“Just in case of what?”

“Is this your secret octopus society?’ Thor asked. 

“You told him?” Kurt asked. “You swore me to secrecy.” 

“Yes, of course I told him,” Rachel hissed. “He is my friend, and quite frankly, he’s been more of a friend than you have lately.” 

“Oh, god, Rachel…” 

“Not to be a burden, but is there a place in this building where I can go relieve myself,” Thor asked once they were inside. “It was a long subway ride.” 

“It’s down the hall, to the left,” Rachel said. 

A good five minutes passed, and Thor had not returned. “Do you think we should go get him?” Kurt asked. 

“No, I’m sure he’s fine,” Rachel said - then headed towards the back staircase. 

“What are you doing, Rach?” Kurt called after her. 

“I’m going to go see that phanom,” Rachel threw behind her shoulder. 

“Don’t you want to wait for Thor and his giant hammer?” 

“I’m sure he can find us.” 

Kurt stood there for a moment, torn between following Rachel and waiting for Thor. But knowing Rachel would probably get herself in more trouble than it’s worth - he decided to follow her.

Kurt had only been in the basement once, and that had been years ago when he was given a tour when he first arrived. Even though it was the middle of a bright, sunny day, descending into the basement gave him the creeps. There wasn’t much down there, save for a few rooms filled with old and broken equipment, and a very large open space that had a stage and some chairs in front of it. Even with Rachel turning on all the lights as they went, something about all the dust and the decay made him want to go right back up the stairs. Still - he followed Rachel right up to the stage. 

“Oh my god,” Rachel gasped. 

Kurt couldn’t believe his eyes. The chandelier, somehow, had fallen, and there was broken glass and plastic everywhere. “Are you sure it was a paint can you threw at him?” 

Rachel jumped on stage, then helped Kurt up. “This was completely intact when I left. Something must have happened.” 

Rachel meandered towards stage left as Kurt continued to look at the broken chandelier. He shifted the mess around with his foot, and noticed something odd. A dark casing of some sort. It kind of looked like - oh god.

“Phantom!” Rachel screamed. “Phandom come out, we know you’re down here. And we have back up, so you better show your ugly face.” 

“Rachel stop yelling,” Kurt screeched at her. He was pretty sure there were bullet casings on the floor with the rest of the mess. Rachel, however, continued to beat at the curtains. Kurt, however, went to stage right, and noticed some tears in the fabric. Were these bullet holes? No - there couldn’t have been a shoot out at NYADA. It’d be on the news. There’d be people swarming around. This was all some sort of weird play thing that was going on, right? 

Kurt moved the curtain around, and was met with a horrifying sight. There was a man hiding back there. Kurt froze, unable to say or do anything he was so in shock. The man was much bigger than him, with dark hair and dark eyes and, yup, that was a mask. But what made it oh, so much worse was that the man had an assault rifle and what looked like a metal arm. The man’s dead eyes stared at him back, and he slowly brought a single finger to his lips. Not a word. Got it. Not a problem, really, because Kurt couldn’t speak at all. All Kurt could think about was the fact that he might die - right here, right now. But the man didn’t seem to make any movement. Only kept staring at him with those dead eyes. 

Rachel’s voice broke him out of the trance. “Kurt! I’m not finding anything. Kurt, where’d you go.” 

Kurt, able to move again, flew out from behind the curtain. “Rachel, we’ve got to go. Now!” 

“What are you talking about? We haven’t figured out what happened.” 

Kurt grabbed onto Rachel’s wrist and started dragging her back towards the stairs. “Rachel, I swear to god, we have got to find Thor then get the hell out of here.” 

“Kurt? Kurt! Ow, c’mon, you’re hurting me. Kurt what’s going on?” 

“It’s your phantom,” Kurt said when they reached the stairs. “He’s real.”


	6. Graduating from Stark Industries

Kurt and Rachel raced up the steps, but before they could catch their breaths at the top, they were met with an entirely different scene than they left. The lobby was now full of people, many of them in colored uniforms, while ole Cassie July herself was in the middle, clad in a black, leather onesie, making her unusually super villain like, screaming her head off. Before they could get their bearings, however, some kind of weird, weblike substance flew onto Rachel. She began to scream. Kurt went to react, but he was knocked down by someone. That someone was Spider-Man. 

“Stay down, guys,” Spider-Man whispered. Kurt thought his voice sounded very familiar. “You shouldn’t be here in the middle of this. Is that an empty classroom?” Before Kurt could respond, Spider-Man picked up Rachel ran towards the first door in the hallway. Kurt followed, quite aware that pieces of the walls and windows were flying around. Spider-Man through Rachel in the door, and pushed Kurt in after her. “Stay in there, and don’t come out until I come back - you need to stay safe.” The door was slammed shut on them, and Kurt quickly locked the door. 

Rachel lay on the floor, not able to move because she was covered in the weird white web substance, and began to cry. Kurt, meanwhile, tried to see what was going on, but the glass of the classroom door was frosted, and he could only make out shapes moving around. It was probably better that they were locked in there, because Kurt could hear bullets and screams and things breaking out there. He had no idea what was going on, but damn did it sound loud. 

“Kurt,” Rachel whimpered. “Kurt can’t you get me out of this?” 

“I really should text Blaine,” Kurt said. But when he got his phone out, he was unsure what to say. Stuck in the NYADA building while superheros duked it out in the lobby? He came up with a quick text, letting Blaine know that he was okay, and not to come to the building until it had been cleared. Blaine would still be in class for another half hour, so hopefully, whatever was going on would be done before then. 

Meanwhile, Rachel was becoming more persistent in her wails. 

“Hold still, Rach, let me see if I can get you out of this.” Kurt tried to pull apart the webbing, but it was too strong. The best he could do was try to make Rachel comfortable by leaning her up against the wall. 

“Kurt, I’m so, so sorry I got you involved in all of this,” Rachel said, real tears, for once, streaming down her face. 

“What are you talking about?” Kurt said, sitting against the wall beside her. “It’s not like you were the one orchestrating big superhero coups, right?” 

Rachel was unusually quiet for a long moment. “Kurt, there’s something I should tell you about.” 

Kurt felt a pit in his stomach. “Okay?” 

“So, you know that secret society I was in?” Rachel said with a sniffle. “I don’t think they were very good people.”

“Yeah, I began to get that a while ago.” 

“I mean, it started out fine - and it was so much fun,” Rachel continued. “They told me how wonderful I was, and how great a job I was doing. It was like -- they really saw my talent for what it was, and encouraged me to use it to my fullest potential. And it was so much fun meeting new people and getting them to join the school. But after a while - really after Cassie July took over, it stopped being as fun. Suddenly, they had certain criteria they wanted me to meet with my recruitees. And it became weird, and scary, and oh Kurt, I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“I know, Rach, I know.” 

Rachel leaned her head against his shoulder. “And now we’re stuck here and I may never get out to get my Tony, and you may never see Blaine again, and I’m so, so sorry. Kurt.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Kurt said with a smile, even if he couldn’t promise her that. “I just wish you had told me sooner. I might have been able to help you.” 

“Well,” Rachel said. “At least I told Thor.” 

Kurt began to laugh. “Yeah, you told Thor.” 

Rachel began to laugh with him. “You know what the funniest thing about all of this is, right?” 

“That the actual Thor is your roommate?” 

“That the actual Thor is my roommate.” 

They both began to laugh hysterically. 

“He’ll probably move out,” Rachel said. “But at least I have documented proof. I set him up an Instagram account. There plenty of pictures of he and I on there.” 

“Oh, Rachel Berry,” Kurt said, resting his cheek on her head. “I love you.” 

Just then, Thor’s hammer slammed through the glass of the door. Glass sprayed everywhere, Kurt covered Rachel to make sure she was okay. Thor popped his head through the now open window in the door. 

“Sorry about that,” he said - and held his hand out to retrieve the hammer. “I promise, we’re pretty much cleaning up now.” 

Kurt got up to peer through the door to see what was going on. The lobby was utterly destroyed. There were superheroes everywhere - many of them carrying off bad guys. Kurt even recognized some of the detainees as some of his classmates. Cassie July was in a corner bound and gagged. It seemed as though the worst of it was over. 

Suddenly, Spider-Man’s head popped down from the ceiling. “Oh good, you guys are okay.” Spider-Man dropped down, and opened the door. “I was totally worried that something might have happened, but you guys look like you’re alright. I’m so sorry you guys got involved, and oh yeah, you totally avoided getting shot by the Winter Soldier earlier so that’s good. He’s not so bad for a crazy, brainwashed, psycho-assassin. He really likes puppies and draws landscapes in his free time. Not much of a conversationalist though. He’d probably make it at this school better than I could, though. Apparently, I can’t sing at all…” 

It then hit him - why Spider-Man seemed so familiar. “Peter Parker?” Kurt exclaimed. 

“Uh--” Spider-Man finally stopped talking. “Nope, just your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.” He then lifted his mask to reveal that yes indeed - he was that weird freshman Kurt had met at the beginning of the year. He gave Kurt a wink, then put back down his mask. 

Kurt grinned. “So - everything’s okay?” 

“Pretty much yeah. I think so. Well, you see -- this is what happened,” Spider-Man explained. “The school - totally a front for an evil organization called Hydra. They’ve been around since the 40s - you should ask Captain America about it some time, he just doesn’t shut up about it. Anyway - kind of like a real Hydra, you keep cutting their heads off and two more grows back. We just can’t get rid of these guys no matter how hard we try.”

“Okay, but how were they involved with the school?” Kurt asked. 

“Oh, right!” Spider-Man said. “The school was recruiting new members for Hydra. Your friend was doing a bunch of the scouting. Basically, they’d bring people in, brainwash them, and then send them out into the world - and when Hydra needed them they’d do their brainwash call, and have a little army infiltrated throughout the city. Since the arts is such a major player in the city, they’d have agents everywhere.” 

“Wait, so am I brainwashed?” 

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” Spider-Man assured him. “See, that’s why I was here undercover - to see if it was the entire school or just a part of it. I really should thank you - because you tipped me off to that it was only a small portion of the student body that was brainwashed. The rest of you really thought you were getting a fine arts degree. Unfortunately, though, this school is accredited, so I’m not sure how far the degree would have gotten you.”

“And Cassie July was their ring-leader?” 

“No, she was another uperrank peon,” Spider-Man said. “We got lucky - once she took over, she got rid of most of the staff - which gave us an in to infiltrate. That’s why all the Avengers were your teachers for a few weeks there. We were all undercover, looking for the right moment to take everyone down.” 

“I’m not sure how ‘undercover’ you really were though,” Kurt said - relieved that he hadn’t been losing his mind. 

“Hey, we’re Superheroes, not entertainers,” Spider-Man defended with a shrug. 

“So, what about Thor?” Kurt asked. “Was his roomming with Rachel apart of it, too?”

Spider-Man tilted his head - the eyes of the mask squinting to think about it. “I don’t think so. I think Thor was just lonely.” 

“What do you mean you have to arrest me!?” Rachel’s shrill voice cut through the air. 

Thor had picked her up, still bound in the webbing, and had thrown her over his shoulder. “I’m sorry m’lady, but you were involved in an extensive crime ring. You recruited more evil villains to a super villain lair. They’re going to want to talk to you.” 

“But I didn’t know what I was doing! The tricked me,” Rachel screamed. “Put me down you brute. I thought you were my friend! We stayed up and talked to each other about our core wounds. I baked you cookies. We braided each other’s hair.” 

Thor let out a heavy sigh as he took Rachel out of the building. 

“She’s going to be okay, right?” Kurt asked. “She really didn’t know what she was doing.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Spider-Man replied. “I’m guessing SHIELD will get it all figured out for her.”

“Well, I think that just about wraps this little ordeal up.” Kurt stood dumbstruck as Tony Stark, the owner of Stark Industries, the Iron Man himself, walked into the lobby - wearing an expensive suit, and looking like this was just another day on the job. “What do you think kid?” He patted Spider-Man on the back. 

“I think we showed them, Mr. Stark,” Spider-Man said giddly. 

“Yes, yes we did,” Mr. Stark. “And all before noon - there’s still time to have a nice brunch. It’s on me. What do you drink? Mimosas? Are you even legal drinking age yet? We’ll work something out.” 

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Kurt called out. If he didn’t ask now, he probably would lose his chance. “What’s going to become of the school?” 

Mr. Stark looked around, only half interested. “I don’t know, I’ll probably buy it. Tear it down, this building is totally not up to code - those Hydra agents were still living in the 50s, apparently.” 

“But what about my degree?” 

Mr. Stark considered. Then came over to Kurt and blessed him, “Congratulations, kid, you’ve just graduated from Stark Industries in -- what was their front again?” 

“It was a musical theater school?” 

“They have entire schools for that? Alright, okay, Stark Industries grants you a full BFA, that good for you?” Mr. Stark asked. “Good - I’ll have Spider-Man get your details. We’ll be in touch.” 

“Um, thanks?” 

“Sure thing, kid,” Mr. Stark responded, patting him on the back. 

“Isn’t Mr. Stark amazing?” Spider-Man cooed. 

Yeah, something like that - Kurt thought. 

“Kurt!” And there was Blaine, looking bewildered in the entryway. He jumped over the police tape, and ran through the broken glass and debris to get at Kurt. 

“Blaine!” Kurt yelled, and the two embraced. 

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked. “I got your text and I saw the news, and oh my god, I’m so glad you weren’t hurt, I was so scared.” 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Kurt assured him, feeling safe back in Blaine’s arms. “When we get home, I have to tell you how Rachel was working for an evil villain organization. And I can’t believe Sam Evans was right - NYADA was a scam school.” 

“Of course it was. I think you deserve a few days off to tell me all about it,” Blaine said. And then he went stiff. “Oh my god, is that Captain America? Do you think I could get is autograph?” 

Kurt laughed.


	7. Post-Credit Scene

Rachel had been sitting in jail for hours. She had talked to dozens of people about her story -- the police, the Black Widow lady, a dude with an eye-patch, she was just about done talking. She shouldn’t be in jail - she didn’t do anything wrong. When was she getting out of there? Where was Thor? Where was Kurt? Was that toothless lady in the corner going to eat her? She was going to go crazy if someone didn’t show up soon. 

Eventually, her dad Hiram came to pick her up. 

“Daddy!” Rachel said, ecstatic when they opened the bars and she was free. She gave her dad a huge hug. 

“It’s alright, baby, I’m here,” Hiram said. “Did they treat you well? Will I need to get a lawyer and sue their ass for wrongful imprisonment? Because I will - only the best for my baby girl.” 

“I’m fine, dad,” Rachel said, relaxing into his arms. He stroked her hair. “I just want to go home and have a good cry.” 

“If you need to, we can take you right back to Ohio, and you can have all the space to recoup if you want,” Hiram offered. “Or, if you really need to get away, you can borrow my timeshare on Sakaar.”


End file.
